Chapter Text
Joohyun has never been too fond of the rain—the way it sticks to her mind, a harbinger of thoughts left forgotten.
She's expected to stew and brood in her memories, let them envelop her senses until she's unable to distinguish between the past and present. But she's not one to brood on herself—she considers herself too unimportant in a world in which people are focused on each other.
Rain falls with dull splats as it blurs away the city from her vision. She's stood near the glass balcony door, watching life be reflected in the many droplets. For a strange moment, Joohyun wishes she could embody the aesthetic of the tortured writer sat in a café, scribbling some lines of poetry on a piece of tissue paper—maybe the imagery would inspire her lethargic muse. But for that she'll need an idea and for once she's desperate enough to search for one on Google.
The essay she wrote on poverty which impressed the editor in chief of Be Bold was written under a week—each word woven together by foreign tales and vulnerable images, sewn together by the sheer urgency to just write. She's supposed to pitch an idea at her first meeting as a writer for Be Bold yet her mind is terribly empty, shrouded in an impenetrable pedantic fog. Joohyun has an insatiable need to be validated for her work, to let her written words be the only way others perceive her as.
She sees Seungwan approach her in the reflection of the glass.
"You're not gonna get any sun in this weather," Seungwan says, her tone teasingly fond, "and stop glaring at the clouds, you might scare them away."
Since Joohyun was a child she had an inherent love for all things sunny—quite unlike Seungwan who has an intense aversion to sunlight, her window stays curtained and her room bathed in the most violent of blues, she bought a projector for that very purpose.
"I don't glare," Joohyun scoffs.
"Oh, of course you don't—those two freshmen boys gave up their seats for you because you looked at them lovingly," she says and steps away at the right time before Joohyun could hit her.
Happiness used to be a term unfamiliar to Joohyun before she met Seungwan and Seulgi—the latter came completely free of charge with Seungwan's friendship—she felt like a starved child in their presence, cold and so alone that she attached herself to them—if she were to let them go they'd simply fade away. Their loyalty though was infectious and intimate in a way she thought she'd never be able to understand. They were the same but different, cleaved from the same soul and at times Joohyun would be the slightest bit envious of that.
She smiles at Seungwan's stupid antics as she falls rather dramatically on the couch. "Aren't you gonna go back to your bat cave?"
"Not when I want to spend all of my time with you, unnie," Seungwan says impishly the moment Joohyun settles into the couch next to her and holds onto Seungwan's arm out of habit—it's comforting to be physically affectionate without any pretence or thought, to hold another person just for the need to form a connection.
And Joohyun adores every second of it.
Seulgi enters into the apartment the way she entered into Joohyun's life—all haphazard and clumsy energy which follows her around like an unrelenting storm—yet it's the same energy that enraptures the hearts of people.
She never asked for Joohyun's friendship, she took it in a way that made it seem as though she always belonged in her life—a completely attached and sentimental cub, too pitiable to be left alone.
"Sorry I'm late," Seulgi says and sat herself on the couch beside Seungwan.
"You ass! You said you'd be here an hour ago!" Seungwan yells but Joohyun doesn't pay any attention to their benign banter, she's busy in the art of wasting time; tracing over the various circles she's drawn in her notebook, the pages lie empty awaiting to be filled. It isn't until Seulgi takes away the notebook from her hands that Joohyun looks at her in irritation.
There's a charm to Seulgi that she hasn't quite understood yet, it's present whenever Seulgi smiles and Joohyun can't stay mad at her. "Unnie, I don't think Taeyeon would appreciate a lack of ideas from your side."
"I can't think of any," she says and snatches back her notebook the moment Seulgi starts to flip through the previous pages.
"Got something you don't want us to see?" Seulgi looks infuriatingly cheeky.
"You know," Seungwan says rather loudly, "you could just cover an event—I heard the physics department is opening up the observatory for visitors before Chuseok."
Joohyun considers it for a moment and writes it down, Seulgi though, doesn't approve, "But that's not feature worthy!"
She doesn't want the recognition of a featured article—a little apprehensive of the expectations they will place on her shoulders, she'll lose herself in a vicious cycle just to impress. She's content to see her name published in print. "I'm happy to just be a part of the team."
If Joohyun were to not presume the trees around the university campus as bare, ugly things—she would see the mellowed beauty of their intertwined branches and their patience for greener seasons. If she weren't to dismiss them, she might've been able to see a plethora of different lives etched in the veins of leaves. Instead, she only thinks them unnecessary in a place infested with concrete.
Walking beside Seulgi to the office of student publications has an odd sense of familiarity and comfort, she is like the moon, steady and bright in the night sky—almost benevolent in her air of justice. She bumps shoulders with Joohyun to get her attention.
"Unnie," Seulgi says somewhat conspiratorially, "there's so much you can write on gender and identity and the perception of them both in our society."
Seulgi is only a couple of inches taller than her and Seungwan and at times Joohyun finds it endearing to look up at her—the topic is interesting as well. "From what angle?"
"Well... you know how the trans community isn't completely recognised and how most of the time a trans individual has to conform themselves to the identity society places on them—they're not seen as the gender they identify as and they're stuck in the middle. You could focus on that and get an interview as well. Start off with a bang!"
Joohyun rolls her lips into her mouth—it's a topic she'd love to read but doesn't trust herself to be objective enough to write it. "I don't think I'd be able to find anyone to interview."
"If you do it, it'll honestly change the way a lot of people think in our university." There's a palpable energy in the air, so much so that Joohyun can feel it on her hands, Seulgi is so happy—she's all movement, airy and solid—so full in the capacity to always stand for the right thing. "And I know someone who'd cooperate."
Joohyun is cowardly, ever afraid of the consequences of her actions. "I'm not sure..."
"Come on, unnie! You've got a chance to do something amazing, don't let it go."
"I know," she says, "I know."